


Breath

by Celettas



Category: Pandora Hearts
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-10
Updated: 2015-01-10
Packaged: 2018-03-06 23:14:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3151919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celettas/pseuds/Celettas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oz and Gilbert share a quiet morning, as Oz comes to terms with his own self-worth. Based on the prompt "New Beginnings" for #ph_69min.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breath

**Author's Note:**

> A dozen thank yous to my editor, Tilia B.

:: :: ::

“Breath”

:: :: :: 

     The poignant smell of cigarette smoke fluttered into the room, surrounding the bedside. Oz could feel the smoke slither into his lungs, the bitter, demanding sensation spreading throughout his tiny body and embracing him from within, like a pair of iced hands unwilling to let loose their grasp. He did not feel particularly bothered by it -- there was something friendly, or perhaps familiar was the better word, in that brand of suffocation -- but he did find it difficult to hold back the aggressive coughing.

     Fanning the air around him, Oz opened his eyes to the still dimly lit room. The few streaks from the morning light that did enter the room were still without the brilliance of the upcoming sunrise, and the quiet was both nostalgic and refreshing. Only the occasional snore from Alice brought Oz back to reality. Oz could not help but chuckle for her unaffected demeanor, moving a few stray hairs from her sleeping, drooling face.

     Picking himself up and walking to the doorway, Oz rubbed his eyes and spotted Gilbert smoking by the open window in the apartment. His drags were long, calculated, and those golden eyes focused on both everything and nothing at all. But, as the morning sky slowly filled with a mixture of reds and oranges, Gilbert leisurely held the cigarette in his hand and stared into the vastness.

     Oz found Gilbert to be particularly beautiful in these moments, when he was caught with his defenses down. Gilbert, the more he became older, would hardly lose sight of his surroundings, but Oz was a special case, a special connection to the genuine Gilbert that was locked away inside. There was once a time when Oz knew everything about Gilbert, but he reminded himself that the boy was now a man who forced himself to become cynical of the world.

     Gilbert lowered his head, leaning the weight of his upper body against the edge of the window. An audible sigh reached Oz’s ears, the escape of air leaving Gilbert’s body appearing almost lifeless -- a defeated, resigned slouch enveloped by the smoke of the leftover cigarette. Within a few silent moments, Gilbert lifted himself with a sudden motivation and turned around, placing the cigarette into his mouth. However, finding Oz standing nearby, eyes glued on him, left Gilbert in a fluster.

     “Oz!” Gilbert quickly crushed the cigarette on the windowsill, making grand gestures with his arms to fan all the smoke outside. “Did I wake you? Damn, I need a bigger window in this place.”

     With a few blinks, Oz let out a soft laugh -- despite how much Gilbert changed, how much he himself changed, there was no denying the clumsy, flustered spirit that Oz knew so well. Gilbert appeared offended by the laughter, pursing his lips closed and adjusting his ruffled shirt.

     Oz walked from the doorway, entering the living room with Gilbert. “You usually don’t smoke around me. It was quite a surprise to wake up to!” Oz chimed in with a joyful step in his tone, settling himself on the couch.

     “Well… you shouldn’t be ingesting all this smoke. It’s not exactly healthy,” Gilbert responded, following suit and sitting opposite Oz.

     “Preaches the chain smoker.” Oz narrowed his eyes at Gilbert, feeling satisfied when Gilbert pouted in return.

     The two sat beside each other in silence. There was no movement to disturb the inside of the apartment, and only a few birds outside were awake at such an early time of day. Oz leaned his back against the cushion of the couch and closed his eyes.

     Gilbert was the one to begin conversations, asking questions like, “Is Alice still asleep?”

     “Yeah. She didn’t move a bit.”

     “Well, at least it’ll be peaceful for a while.” The two chuckled.

     There was nothing particularly special about the morning -- nothing out of the ordinary, a rather bleary day. Yet these times held the most significance for Gilbert. He could see Oz, without an impending disaster threatening to tear everything away. The blond strands of hair softly moving with the wind, the steady and even breaths that lifted his chest up and down -- all of Oz was right here next to Gilbert, and he was willing to do anything for him, even if that meant leaving everything else in his life asunder.

     Oz slowly opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling. “Gil?”

     “What’s wrong?”

     Oz closed his eyes once again. He moved his legs on to the couch, pressing his knees against his chest.

     “Everything will be okay, won’t it?”

     Gilbert shifted in his seat, looking to Oz.

     “Do you believe that?”

     “Yes, I do.”

     “There’s your answer.”

     Oz smiled, hearing the reassurance in Gilbert’s voice.

     “Just know you’re not alone in this, alright?” Gilbert added.

     “You _will_ always be here for me, won’t you.”

     Oz wrapped his arms around his knees, hands gripping on to the fabric of his clothing. Opening his eyes, Oz slowly said, “I was always afraid before.”

     The words left the boy’s mouth with difficulty. Gilbert could feel his own chest tighten, as he listened to Oz open himself with pain but necessity, like tearing down an immense wall with nothing but one’s fingernails. The words did not become easier to say as Oz continued, and the pauses between his thoughts only grew longer in-between. Yet an overwhelming emotion passed through Gilbert as he watched Oz break down the immeasurable wall that had once pressured Gilbert into an inescapable loneliness before.

     Oz stared to the ground as he spoke. “You know, in the back of my mind, I always worried if my father was right. What if I didn’t deserve happiness?”

     He paused. “Being accused of an irredeemable action by the Baskervilles… what if I really didn’t deserve to be alive, you know?”

     Gilbert opened his mouth, ready to respond, but Oz continued. “I was drifting through life. Merely drifting, without any real attachment.” Oz’s fingers clenched tighter around his clothing. Gilbert wondered if he was fighting back tears.

     “Too much has happened lately to pinpoint the exact moment I began to change. But, maybe all along I… I was desperately alone. To know I have friends, those who care about me and urge me to get my act together, it’s like… I can believe in myself again. It’s as if I suddenly realized I might have a life worth living.”

     Oz looked to Gilbert, smiling widely. Gilbert’s eyes widened, for his smile was brighter and stronger than any he had seen before. “No one can take that away from me.”

     A smile spread across Gilbert’s lips in turn. “You deserve to be happy.”

     When Gilbert began patting Oz’s head, Oz returned with, “So do you.”

     Gilbert’s eyes softened. Even if Gilbert was unable to believe those words at the moment, there was no doubt that Oz was a kind soul.

     Just as the brilliance from the sunrise entered through the window, the faint scent of cigarette smoke lingering was not so much suffocating as it was ensnaring. To be able to see Oz release his tensed pose and demeanor, now standing tall and stretching his arms and legs for the day ahead, Gilbert clenched his jaw in the middle of a whirling mind.

     However, before any thoughts could intervene, Oz grabbed Gilbert’s hands and joyfully declared, “Let’s make breakfast. I’ll let you wear the frilly apron for your master, so let’s go.”

     Gilbert looked into Oz’s eyes. The sadness and pain from earlier had melted away, even if just for this moment, and he now came to see the usual green eyes, eyes that looked to Gilbert and addressed him as the dear friend he always viewed him as.


End file.
